


Courtroom Romances

by dashwood



Category: Boston Legal, The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-11-06 01:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashwood/pseuds/dashwood
Summary: A collection of unrelated one-shots; mostly meet-cutes or short scenes set either at the Post Office or in the courtroom.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sickfic - It's nothing

“You okay?”

Alan’s head snaps back up from where he had been squinting at his work, futilely trying to decipher the shapes and numbers on the slip of paper – which – truthfully – was a lot harder than one would think, especially now that – for some reason that kept eluding him – the letters kept moving around, forcefully jumping up and down before slithering over into the next line.

“Of course, Elizabeth. Right as rain,” he tries to give her a happy smile, preferably one that looks healthy and normal. “Though, I must say that I’m truly touched by your show of concern. Maybe you wouldn’t mind-“

“I’m sure I would. Whatever it is.”

Nodding in an overly somber manner, Alan turns back to his files. He is supposed to work through them all today; it’s what is expected of him now that he is working for the FBI – and there’s another thought, something which he hadn’t ever considered before, and which would probably have made him double over in mock laughter if someone had told him that somewhere down the line he’d end up working for Big Brother.

Still, it’s not so bad. Especially on those days when Elizabeth stops by for a visit to his office. Well, _visit_ might be putting it a bit liberally – a piece of interpretive work. Because she insists (quite forcefully, too) that she is merely here because her boss has send her over to fetch some files or search warrants or permission slips (sometimes, it makes him feel a bit like he is her headmaster or teacher, and maybe she wouldn’t mind indulging him in that bit of roleplay someday. When she finally takes him up on that offer of drinks she keeps swatting away like an annoying fly whenever he attempts to asks her out.)

“You look a bit pale, too.”

Alan heaves a long-suffering sigh and shoves the papers out of his lap and onto his dangerously-towering _Not quite finished yet_ -stack.

“Do I?”

Elizabeth doesn’t dignify his words with a response, merely stares at him in silence. It’s a bit unsettling, this unwavering attention she bestows upon him. How she scrutinizes him as if she’s one of the sociopaths she profiles on a daily basis. It makes him squirm in his seat, and when Alan can’t stand it anymore, he shakes his head with a chuckle that comes out a bit scratchy and breathless.

“I can assure you, Elizabeth, that I’m absolutely fine. Tip-top shape. Actually, if you’d just consider taking me up on my honest advances, then I’m sure I could make some time for a demonstration. If we just clear this desk, I’d quite happily show you exactly how well in shape I am, it would just take a few seconds—“

She snorts and Alan realizes that maybe he shouldn’t have tried to wade through the misty haze inside his brain, after all. Not if he’d like to walk out of this room with his dignity intact and the prospect that in the future, Elizabeth wouldn't look at him as if he’s a complete loser.

“I meant the desk-clearing, obviously. The – ah – other thing would take considerably longer.” He trails off, feels his grasp on reality slipping as his vision blurs into a set of swirling shadows. “Or maybe we could just lie down for a few minutes instead. I think that I would very much appreciate it if we could just jump to the after-part for now.”

“The _after-part_?”

Even though his eyes are closed – which is a bit curious in itself, because he can’t quite remember having closed them in the first place – Alan is pretty certain that she is laughing at him, her lovely eyes alight with barely-concealed amusement.

“You know,” he mumbles, briefly tries to lift his hand to gesticulate, but it somehow feels much heavier than he remembered so he just lets it fall back to hang limply at his side. “The cuddling part.”

As he slowly drifts towards a much-needed slumber, Elizabeth’s melodious laughter is the last thing he hears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sickfic - ill-timed

“I think that was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Liz can feel a pleasantly tingling warmth spreading through her at his words. It doesn’t really help that he’s so sincere about this – the way he keeps staring at her so intensely as if he’s looking right into her soul (and what a sappy thought that was!). Or maybe it’s simply because she hasn’t gotten a chance to see him like this before: serious and mature. So far, Alan had done his best to be an unbearably smug pain in the ass – constantly gloating and teasing and even flirting with her over the witness stand.

Which is probably why it had been so painful to watch him fall apart at the seams, rapidly unravelling right in front of her. Well no, it hadn’t been that bad exactly. All of the sneezing and nose sniffling, the throaty coughing fits that he’d mindfully try to keep quiet when the attorney had questioned her on the task force’s latest capture.

It’s a big case – an important one. And it’s not that she wants to see Alan win it, no. That would be preposterous. Because Liz is still fighting on the side of the law, so of course she wants to see those criminals put away behind locked bars, preferably forever. But she also wants them to have a fair trial, which is why she needs Alan to give as good as he’s got.

Liz wants to see him at his best.

“It was nothing.”

“I disagree.” He says, his voice still too earnest, too deep (it rumbles right through her, and Liz suppresses the urge to squirm.)

“Pretending to faint in the witness stand to force a continuation? What you’ve done could very easily be construed as an obstruction of justice. A good lawyer could certainly make a compelling case of it.”

“Yeah well,” she finally breaks their gaze, briefly wonders why it feels suspiciously like she is surrendering herself to him. “Good thing I know a lawyer who now owes me.”

Alan chuckles, clearly unperturbed by just how husky he sounds.

“Actually, I had hoped that you wouldn’t be completely opposed to letting me take you out to dinner. As a thank you.”

Liz huffs as if annoyed, but it doesn’t do anything to dispense the sudden skip of her heart.

“We’ll see, counsel. Maybe once I’m not in danger of being sneezed in the face.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Alan as Liz's emergency contact / next of kin

Liz slowly wakes to the sound of voices conferring in a mindful whisper just outside her hospital room.

It’s probably Red, she thinks. Talking to her doctor, asking him if she’ll be alright again soon (or a much more likely scenario being that he is currently bribing the staff to let her leave early so he can steal her away to be treated by his rogue band of on-call medics instead).

With a muffled groan, Liz burrows further into the comfortably downy cushions of her bed, desperately wishing that she could stave reality off for just a while longer. She can practically see the disappointed look on his face already, hear the accusing tone of his voice as he tells her that he ‘thought we had agreed on you being more careful in your and Donald’s misadventures out in the field, Lizzy’.

Although, if she’s completely honest then it’s not so much his concern that is making her heart clench, but rather the stabbing pangs of guilt biting away at her at the thought that Red had probably flown all the way down to Massachusetts just because she couldn’t keep herself out of the line of fire long enough to make a simple arrest.  

And god, she feels like such an idiot, taking unnecessary risks like that.

With another longsuffering moan, Liz finally opens her eyes (which turns out to be a terrible mistake as soon as the bright neon-lights hit her oversensitive pupils) and tries to shift her weak body into a sitting position – a feat which turns out to be more challenging than she had anticipated because her whole left side feels uncomfortably numb and yet incredibly sore at the same time.

But thankfully Red is by her side in an instant, his strong hands helping her into an upright position, careful of her injuries.

“Ugh, thank you. I’m okay, I just-”  

The smile slips off her face when she looks up.

“What the hell are YOU doing here?!”

Looking decidedly startled and not just mildly offended, Alan takes a step back, his hands flying up to his chest in a gesture that is meant to assuage her worries.

“Oh my, I had forgotten just how downright charming you could be.” He says and Liz rolls her eyes. He sounds just as smug and insufferable as she remembered him. “What a way to greet your husband.”

“That was years ago! And besides, I don’t think anything that’s been signed by two drunk college students in a 24-hour wedding chapel in Vegas would hold up in court.”

She immediately regrets the words - because after all, Alan is a lawyer and could probably list dozens of paragraphs and precedents disproving her right off the top of his head - something for which she really doesn’t have the necessary energy right now. To her throbbing head, arguing sounds like something that takes up way too much effort.

Yet, to her immense relief, he simply gives a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders.  

“Just the same. However, that doesn’t change the fact that apparently, I am still listed as your emergency contact.”

Her eyes follow him as he reaches out to hand her the glass of mineral water sitting on her nightstand before he sits down on the bed, his thigh brushing against her hips. Liz takes the glass, greedily gulping down several sips. The ice cold liquid is a wonderful balm to her dry throat.

“I would ask how life has been treating you ever since we… let go of each other,” he finally says, breaking the tense silence that had settled over them. “But I fear the gaping gunshot wound in your shoulder says it all.”

“Yeah, well.“ Liz scowls, feeling suddenly defensive. It doesn’t help that Alan just keeps staring at her in silent judgment either, so intense and yet somehow indecipherable at the same time.  

(It makes her feel a bit as if she’s 16 again, getting scolded by her favorite teacher for skipping class to smoke behind the bleachers.)

“I don’t usually get shot. Kind of try to avoid it, in fact.”

Alan doesn’t respond right away and Liz can’t help but wish that it had been Red who had shown up at her hospital bed instead. Somehow, she thinks that she’d rather get the silent treatment from him, the many waves of grating disappointment rolling off of him. At least with Red, Liz could throw it back in his face - Red’s life wasn’t necessarily any less dangerous than hers, after all.  

(Not that Liz thought this was a good thing. But still. Red understood that sometimes a brush with death was inevitable.)

Alan clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek and the pensive frown on his face that accompanies the sound makes her think that he is currently mulling something over in his head. Probably wondering if he should push forward or if it’d be wiser to simply stay silent.

Eventually, he seems to make a decision, nodding determinedly to himself.

“When I got the call that something had happened to you, I…. was so incredibly afraid. I hadn’t thought about you in years and yet when I heard that you were hurt, that there was a chance that you wouldn’t make it-” He breaks off, swallowing hard. “I didn’t think that after all these years, the thought of a world without you in it could possibly affect me this much.”

Liz’s mouth parts in a silent oh even as her eyes are starting to burn with the pricks of a thousand imaginary needles. Because what is she supposed to say to that? What could one possibly say-

Alan pats her leg a bit awkwardly as he moves to stand. Despite the confusing haze of emotions swirling in an angry hurricane through her head and heart, Liz doesn’t fail to notice that he makes an effort not to look her in the eyes. She’s secretly glad for it, too. Neither of them had ever been particularly good at sharing their feelings. Theirs had been a relationship filled with unpolished - and oftentimes downright clumsy and misguided - romantic gestures.

“Well, I had better be off now. I have to be in court in half an hour - it’s a funny story, something about impersonating the ghost of a local celebrity to get out of a parking ticket and–”  

He suddenly falls quiet, grimacing at himself. When he finally continues, his voice comes out much softer, more vulnerable than before.  

“Elizabeth, I don’t think I could possibly find the right words to tell you just how much it would mean to me if… you called once you are feeling better.”

He gives another jerky nod, seemingly satisfied with himself, before he quietly slips out of the room.

Liz is still staring at the exact spot Alan was standing when Red slips into the room an hour later, the glad smile quickly falling from his lips when he notices the wet streaks running down her cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Alan is sick and Liz forces him to stay at home and rest

Jolting awake, Liz finds herself being forcefully thrown over the edge of the bed and onto the floor, sprawling ungracefully into a ball of flailing limbs and wild hair. **  
**

“What the hell,” she groans, bringing her arm up to rest against her forehead. Her heart is racing, startled and blustering against her ribcage like a frightened animal.

Slowly, she turns her head to the side and searches her boyfriend’s face for any signs that something has happened, that something is wrong. Alan seems alright though, at least as far as she can tell. There are no gaping wounds, no blood, no broken bones - which (probably, hopefully) means that they are safe. 

(She could really do without a repeat performance of that one time a Blacklister followed her home and tried to skin her boyfriend alive with a Swiss army knife.) 

“What is that.” It isn’t so much of a question as a statement - albeit a very nasally-sounding one. And god, it’s kind of hard to take him serious like this: sniffing nose and flushed cheeks, dazed eyes and hair sticking out in all directions. Her heart swells at the sight of him, so adorably vulnerable (and wow, there really is something wrong with her if she thinks that seeing her boyfriend suffering from a vicious cold is cute).

Following his gaze, Liz looks at the scarf tying his right ankle to her left one. The knot looks messy, but it was the best she could do without turning on the lights.

“A precaution.” She says, shrugging her shoulders as best as someone could while lying squished between a bed and their feverishly flushed boyfriend. “I was afraid that you’d try to sneak off to work after all. You know the doctor ordered a strict bed rest.”

Alan groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Elizabeth… What if he needs me?”

“Denny will be fine.” Reaching out, she combs her fingers through his hair, hoping to calm him down. It seems to help, because as soon as she touches him he gives a rumbling purr, the sound hoarse and scratchy, and Liz thinks that she’d best get up and make him a cup of tea. A generous spoonful of sugar should help with his sore throat.

“If it’d make you feel any better I could stop by at his office during my lunch break. See if he’s doing alright.”

Alan’s eyes blink open, half-lidded and dark, and for a moment Liz is overwhelmed by the adoration she finds there.

“You’d do that for me?”

Well, if he puts it like that. Feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden, she gives a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“I knew you two were a package deal when we first started going out.”

Alan just stares at her for one beat, two beats. But then he closes his eyes once again and Liz watches - a bit mesmerized - as a content smile spreads over his face.

“Thank you, Agent.”

With a huffed laugh, Liz playfully boxes his shoulder before shuffling closer to his side. She rests her head on his chest, cheek pressed against the soft cotton of his shirt, his heartbeat tugged safely beneath her ear. It doesn’t take long for his breathing to change, slowing down into a peaceful slumber.

“You’re welcome,” she whispers, her eyes falling closed at last. “Counsel.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jealousy

> I just caught her laughing with another man.  
>  _Are you sure they weren’t just…. kissing or something?_  
>  No they were laughing. I’m gonna lose the girl and the case all in the same week.

 

\--

 

He’s been uncharacteristically quiet all evening, picking absentmindedly at his food, and Liz is starting to think that something is wrong. She wonders if it’s just the case – the one he has been working so hard on, but which he is ultimately bound to lose (she’s seen the file, knows someone who has worked on it, actually. It’s not looking well). Or maybe something else has happened, maybe Denny is getting worse again.

Whatever it is, it has clearly upset him. And it’s starting to worry her, too.

“Alan,” she begins, a bit hesitant. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

It takes him a few moments to look up, but when he eventually does his eyes shift around the room before he finally drags them back to meet hers. They’re darker than usual and slightly lidded; it looks as if he’s trying hard to appear disinterested, indifferent. But Liz can see right through him, can see the pale-red that’s rimming his eyes and making him look as if – well, as if he has cried.“Everything is fine, Elizabeth.”

“It’s obviously not.” She snaps, irritation rising to the surface. Why won’t he just tell her what’s wrong? She can’t make it better if he doesn’t trust her, dammit!

Still, he doesn’t say anything. Just keeps silent until Liz forces out an annoyed huff and returns her attention to her salad. She’s stabbing one of the tomatoes (a bit too forcefully, maybe) when he shuffles uneasily in his seat.

“You were laughing.” He finally says, but somehow the admission is less helpful than she’d have thought.

“What?”

“Earlier, with Reddington. You were laughing at something he said.”

“Well, yeah.” She says, shrugging her shoulders. “Sometimes there are these rare moments where he’s not being an insufferable pain in the ass. I actually like him then.”

Alan nods gravely as if she’s just confirmed something he had long suspected. But somehow all of this feels a bit off, and the silence that stretches over them is too tense, too suffocating in the suddenly stuffy restaurant.

Still, she hopes that he’ll continue, that he’ll lead her to the base of the problem so they can work it out. Together. Because right now her thoughts are running around in circles, desperately trying their best to figure out just why it should matter to him if she laughs at Reddington’s jokes.

But then it begins to dawn on her, and  _oh_.

_Oh, Alan, no_.

Suddenly there’s a big, fat lump sitting right in her throat, blocking up her airway and making it hard to squeeze any words past it without choking on them.

“You know,” she begins before breaking off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth before trying again. “You know that I’m not just with you because you make me laugh, right? There are… other things I like about you as well.”

And the way he keeps staring at her, for once seemingly at a loss for words, is all the confirmation she needs. But god, the mere thought that he has somehow gotten it in his head that he hasn’t got anything else to offer but a few jokes and witty comments – it’s enough to break her heart.

“Alan,” She says, her voice soft. “I kind of really like you.”

There, she’s said it. Liz couldn’t possibly have anticipated just how vulnerable saying it would make her feel, as if she’s just told him a terrible secret that has lived in the dark for too long, afraid of light, and too vulnerable and raw to survive on its own.

With a forced smile – overly cheerful; she’s just trying to be brave enough for both of them – Liz lowers her gaze back to her food. At least her salad won’t look at her with rejection or pity. Picking up her fork, she begins to shuffle her tomatoes around her plate, left and right and left again.

But then Alan shuffles around his seat and before the worrying void inside her chest can fester any longer, Liz can feel his hand – nice and warm – wrap around hers, his thumb rubbing reassuringly across her knuckles.

When she finally drags her eyes away from the sight of their clasped hands to look up at him Alan is smiling brightly, his eyes suspiciously shiny in the dim candlelight.

“I kind of really like you too, Elizabeth.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is now where I keep all my Alan Shore & Elizabeth Keen ficlets. If you're feeling like it, you can leave prompts in the comments section or visit my tumblr over at sorrydearie. Feedback is also much appreciated :)


End file.
